


Help my brother

by TheIceQueen



Series: Sam's blue book [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: After the addiction, Angst, Caretaker Sam Winchester, Confusion, Demon Blood Addict Sam Winchester, Doctors & Physicians, Drugs, Fear, Gen, Hallucinations, Hunt Gone Wrong, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Medical, Needles, Nervousness, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Overdosing, Pain, Past Drug Use, Protective Dean Winchester, Spoilers, Swearing, Unconsciousness, Vomiting, Worried Dean Winchester, Worried Sam Winchester, spoilers season 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 18:51:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15540732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIceQueen/pseuds/TheIceQueen
Summary: Dean and Sam messes up on a hunt and get hurt. Sam is forced to visit an old acquaintance to get help.Set somewhere in the middle of season five.





	Help my brother

”It’s okay Sammy…! Hey. Look at me!”

Dean’s head was pounding with every word, but Sam was more important. The blood oozing from his shoulder and chest was going too fast. Sam was holding on to Dean’s upper arms, too tight for Dean’s comfort. He seemed desperate.

“I’m fine Dean. What happened to your head?”

“Not important. Sam! We need to get you to a hospital.”

Sam seemed confused. He must have already lost too much blood. Dean tried to get up, but his legs wouldn’t support him, and he refused to let Sam help him. His younger brother was totally unaware of how bad his injuries were. They’d just lost Ellen and Jo, Dean couldn’t lose Sam too… again. He grabbed on to the edge of the table and tried to pull himself up again but tore the table down with him. Surrounded by chards of glass, a table half on top of him and a bleeding Sam looking at him like he was the one hurt, his eyes blurred and the last of his body followed his legs into the state of rubber.

“Don’t worry… I’ll get help…” Dean’s eyes closed, and his head fell back in Sam’s hands. “It’s okay Sammy…”

* * *

Sam lifted Dean up and swung his large being over his shoulder, with much trouble he got him down the three flights of stairs in the neglected building. The ghost they were hunting had been killed with an overdose and was now killing everyone remotely involved. Sam had found the remains in a wall in the basement, but it had clearly gotten to Dean before he was done burning it. Sam had found Dean almost unconscious from a head-wound, in a room almost more white than dirty.

Dean was kinda coming to when they got to the car. Sam opened the door to the back seat.

“Sam?”

“Let’s just get you in here. You need a doctor.”

“Did you carry me? Your shoulder!” Dean fought Sam to get down and Sam had no other choice than to oblige, and let Dean try to stand. He fell backwards into the car and laying on his back, he looked at Sam with terrified eyes.

“Sam you need to rest…” Dean’s eyes lids moved slowly up and down. “You’re… Sammy, the blood…”

Sam looked down at himself. He’d torn his shirt on a rusty nail, running up the stairs to find Dean. Only now he noticed that he was bleeding from a small cut, on the upper right side of his chest. Nothing seriously, it’d almost stopped, and Sam didn’t think it needed stitches.

Dean’s eyes were wavering, and he didn’t seem like he was aware of where he was anymore. Sam moved his brother a bit further in, so he could bend his legs and close the door.

“You can’t d-drive…” Dean was slurring his words. “I’ll get you there… You’ll be just fine…”

Sam closed the door and shook his head despairingly as he got in the driver’s seat.

* * *

There was no need to Sam to consult his blue book, he already knew his options. In five minutes he would have to chose which way he’d go. Right, was a twenty-five minutes’ drive to Twin Falls where Dr. Marie Hammond, the eldest of Dr. Robert J. Hammond’s daughters, lived and worked. The family had helped them out before and he would trust her in a heartbeat even though he’d never laid eyes on her.

If he drove left, he would end up at Dr. Karen Stewart. Sam had never seen her either, but he knew she specialized in rehab.

He looked at Dean in the review mirror. He was breathing too fast and his hands were starting to shake. It wasn’t just a normal knock on the head. Sam had worried that Dean had inhaled whatever the drugs in that room was, and now he was convinced.

He turned left and pressed the pedal to the floor. He had to get there before Dean got worse. He frantically found his phone and the book while trying his best not to drive off. He was driving faster than Dean-speed so it was a challenge.

“ _Dr. Stewart._ ”

“Ehm, hey. Shit!” Sam almost missed a turn and ended up in oncoming traffic for a split-second.

“ _Excuse me?_ ”

“I’m sorry. I need help. Ehm… I talked to you last year about some hunter-stuff, do you remember?”

“ _Sam?_ ”

Sam didn’t know if it was a good thing that she remembered, but right now it made everything a lot easier.

“Yeah. I… My brother… I think he’s inhaled something. I’m not sure what. Are you home? I can be there in an hour.”

“ _I’m home. How is he behaving? Do you know how much, or how it looked?_ ”

“It was powder… white …” Sam looked at Dean again, the shaking was worse, and Sam wasn’t sure if it was the light from the setting sun or if Dean was stating to turn red. “He’s out. He hit his head. I don’t know… He’s shaking, I guess... What do I do?”

“ _Bring him here fast. Don’t stop unless he’s not breathing._ ”

* * *

The sign to welcome them to Mountain Home, Idaho, made Sam loosen his white fingers a little on the stearin wheel. Dean was still breathing. Sam could hear it. He was letting out moans and gasps between his neck and chest twitching, his face was reacting like he was having the worst nightmare of his life, but no clear words came out. But he was still breathing, so Sam kept driving till he saw the blue house connected to a small clinic.

A tall lady with brown wavy hair and dark brown skin ran out of the house, just as Sam stepped out of the car. No words were said as Sam opened the door next to Dean’s head and gave the doctor room to see him first.

“Sir?”

Dean seemed shocked by the words and flinched, but his eyes stayed closed.

“His name is Dean.” Sam stood behind the door, holding it with both hands.

“Dean. Can you look at me?”

She checked his pulse on his neck and when Dean didn’t answer she got up and looked at Sam. “We need to get him inside. It looks a lot like an overdose.”

Sam’s stomach clutched on itself, but it didn’t stop him from hauling Dean’s shaking body from the backseat. Dean’s skin was burning, and Sam felt the heat radiating from him. His neck fell backwards, limp just as his arm, as Sam carried Dean through the door to the room where Karen was pulling out an exam-table for him.

“Sammy?” Dean seemed scared, not for himself, but for his little brother.

“I’m okay Dean. We need to get you better now.”

Without warning Dean sat up and grabbed Sam’s arm and shoulder. “Sam! You’re bleeding!”

“Help me get him down.” The doctor talked calmly, but with authority. She pulled Dean down on his back and Sam helped holding him down, while she tried to get an IV in his hand.

Dean fought her off. “No! I need to get Sam to a doctor!”

“Dean…” Sam tried to get eye contact with him, but Dean was too agitated, and Sam wasn’t sure he could even see with how dilated his eyes were. “She _is_ a doctor. She’ll help.”

Karen took Dean’s hand again, resulting in it hitting her right on the cheekbone. “Help Sam!”

Sam let go of Dean and let him sit back up, accepting the possibility that he could fall down. Before he could rush to the doctor’s side, she’d already grabbed Dean’s wrists.

“Hold him down. We need to do this now.”

Sam pushed a struggling but not that strong or coordinated Dean back down and held him while the doctor restrained his waist and wrists.

“You bitch! If Sam dies, I’ll kill you myself!”

“Dean. I’m here…” Sam tried to get his brother’s attention, but he wasn’t looking at anything or anyone. “I’m good. You need to calm down.”

“I need your help.” Karen was holding the IV-needle again and looked at Dean’s hand. “Please hold his arm, he’s moving too much.”

Sam held tight to the arm and Dean shouted in pain. The doctor didn’t let go of the hand, so Sam kept on holding till she was done, while watching his brother twist and turn under him to get away from the touch.

“What was that?” Sam looked from Dean to the doctor and back.

“He’s hyper sensitive to touch, possible other thigs too. Turn down the light a little, it might make him less agitated.”

Sam turned the light down till she nodded and walked to be by his brother, now grunting from the exhaustion of the shaking and tremors.

“I’m sorry about the…” Sam gestured to his eye while looking at the doctor.

“No worries. It’s not the first time a patient gave me a shiner.”

Under much protest from Dean she checked his temperature in his ear and put on a cuff for measuring blood pressure. The sound Dean made when it tightened was pain, fear and anger all mixed up in one. Sam wanted to take his hand or cradle his head, but he knew that neither of those moves wouldn’t help or go well.

The woman ran to the other side of the room and starting taking out something Sam couldn’t see from where he was.

“Is he… What do you need?”

“Get as much of his clothes off, he’s overheating.”

Sam didn’t hesitate when handed a pair of scissors. Carefully not to hurt Dean further he held him down while cutting the shirt and pants off the frantic man.

The doctor handed Sam a few wet rags. “On his chest.” Sam held it there and watched the doctor press something else into the IV. Quickly, Dean got easier to hold and the wet fabric stayed on almost by itself. The doctor placed a few more behind his knees, under his lower back, in his armpits and on his neck. Sam’s stomach hurt worse for every time Dean whined sluggishly in pain, when she touched him.

Sam had to help her hold Dean’s head still while putting on the oxygen mask. The fear in Dean’s and the whimpering sounds that was close to cross the line to crying, was killing Sam. As soon at the mask was secured they let him go, and after shaking his head in something resembling panic for a few seconds he calmed down and turned back to just shaking and sluggishly fighting the restraints.

“What now?”

The doctor didn’t slow down. She was already approaching Dean again. “I’ll check his blood sugar.” She pried one of Dean’s fingers from his clenched fist and drew a drop of blood.

“Fuck…! Sam?” Dean’s eyes flew open but closed quickly again. Sam only had time to notice that his pupils was still extremely big.

“Hold him still please.”

The woman came over with a small syringe and Sam thought that Dean might have had to be restrained even without the drugs making him frantic. He was doing worse and worse with needles and two in a day might have been too much for the older Winchester.

The doctor gestured for his thigh and Sam pressed his brother’s knee to the table and held his thigh with the other hand. Dean moaned in distress by the touch and fought Sam’s grip as the needle went in.

“I’ll monitor him for now. I’ve given him everything I can to counteract the drug and started treatment on all the symptoms he’s showing.” Karen covered Dean’s body and all the wet rags with a sheath and rolled a chair over for Sam to sit on. “If he’s showing signs of nausea or that he’ll vomit, we’ll have to turn him, otherwise I think it’s best he keeps the belts on.

No matter how much Sam hated seeing Dean tied down, stripped of any control, he had to agree with the doctor.

Dean seemed to relax a little more as the drugs did their job. Sam tried for his hand and Dean hummed in discomfort but accepted Sam’s hand and held on to his little brother.

“Dean, can you hear me?”

“Sammy…” Dean turned his head back and forth like he was in a dream and couldn’t find his brother. “The blood…”

“It’s taken care of. I’m all better.”

“Sam?” Dean’s face turned towards Sam, but his eyes only flickered slightly open and quickly closed again.

“I’m okay.” Sam squeezed Dean’s hand a little tighter and Dean seemed to accept that his brother was fine and turned his head back to face the ceiling. He was still breathing too fast for Sam to relax too, but he was definitely doing better.

* * *

“So, no hospital?” Karen had sat down on the opposite side of Dean.

Sam shook his head and stole a look away from Dean to look at her. “How would you explain this? We had no business being in that house… well not one we could explain either way.”

The doctor nodded and took a moment to make sure Dean wasn’t getting too cold. The older Winchester had been the same for about twenty minutes. Shaking and once in a while turning his head letting out a low moan, still breathing too fast behind the mask. She seemed satisfied though.

The silence spread, and an awkward feeling took hold of Sam. He’d been looking at Dean all this time because he was watching over him, but now it was just as much because he didn’t want to look at the woman next to them. She must have felt it too, because her voice was lowered significantly when she finally spoke.

“Last year… when you called me.”

Sam looked at Dean’s hand in his and rubbed his thumb over the back of his palm.

“Did you get out of it alright?”

One of the times when Ruby had left him a little too long without her blood and he was having withdrawals, he’d looked through Ellen’s address books and found the doctor’s name. It just said; Send alcoholic hunters here. Ellen had a way with words and Sam missed her even more when thinking about her headfirst personality. Sam had called Karen with some lame excuse about a friend of a friend that showed these symptoms and asked what to do. Apparently, she’d seen right through that.

Sam nodded, still keeping his eyes down. “I’m good now…” He swallowed and took in air and the doctor waited patiently for him to speak. “I did have a relapse a few weeks back, but I’m done.”

He looked at his brother. One thing was to go through detox, but to know what he’d put Dean through being a witness to it, twice, made everything so much worse. He hated seeing Dean like this, in pain, frightened about something Sam couldn’t see and fighting to breathe. It must have been worth on Dean, he didn’t know what he was dealing with and there had been no one to help.

The dark-haired woman reached over and touched his forearm making him look at her. “It wasn’t a drug I’ve ever heard of was it?”

Sam shook his head.

“I’m glad you’re over it, but you can always call, no questions asked.”

“Thank you.” Sam was tearing up and quickly looked back to Dean, the moment had lasted long enough.

She let go of him and sat back on the chair. “When I get hunters in here it’s mostly alcoholism, of course one or two other things too, but not like this.”

After checking the temperature on the skin on Dean’s chest, which was clearly less red, she took the wet fabric off him and covered him with a dry sheath. “He’s getting better. He’ll pull through alright.”

Sam’s lungs filled with air for the first time in hours and he noticed his shoulders plummeting what felt like several inches.

“You should go get cleaned up, your cuts could get infected. There’s a few bandages on the table.” She pointed to a small table on wheels next to a door on the other side of the room.

Sam wasn’t going to leave Dean until he woke up and he was sure his big brother was alright. He shook his head and placed his other hand on Dean’s too. “I’ll go when he’s better.”

Karen came over and placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Sam. You told him you were better. He might still be a little out of it when he wakes up. Get the bandages. You can wash up in there.” The gestured for the door. “Leave the door open if you want. With his concussion it might take longer for him to wake up.”

Without waiting, she slowly took Dean’s hand from Sam’s and when he looked at her she moved between the brothers. Sam couldn’t tear his eyes from Dean as he walked to the door, but he went and got the cut on his chest, and a few others, cleaned and bandaged, so there was no blood showing when Dean would wake.

Only five minutes after Sam was handed one of the doctor’s husband’s shirts, Dean’s shaking stilled bit by bit.

* * *

The headache had almost taken precedence over his burning skin a few times. His lungs not filling with air and his throat tightening around the dry air was almost enough to not worry about Sam. He vaguely remembered, Sam telling him that he was alright, but he couldn’t be sure and either way, Sam could have lied to not make him worry.

For a while he’d been aware of that he was holding something in his hand and the last few times he’d moved his it, it had moved too and squeezed, so he was getting pretty sure it was a hand. He really hoped it was Sam’s. Dean wanted nothing more than to open his eyes and see Sam next to him, preferably awake and sitting up. It was difficult to concentrate about his eyes though. The skin burning on his hand around his nose and mouth was almost gone when he finally was able to move his eyelids, just a little.

“Dean?”

It could be Sam, but Dean didn’t dare to believe it. He blinked his eyes open a little more and the light shot in to his brain like red-glowing nails. Pain and light consumed him in a shock and he lost the little thread of control he had of his body. Somebody talked loudly, something brushed violently over his face and suddenly he was moving. Without knowing what was up and down his stomach cramped and he was almost sure he was puking.

It felt like forever and Dean wasn’t sure if it would stop before he died of exhaustion or lack of oxygen. Eventually the pauses he had for air got longer and finally it seemed like he’d stopped. His body was heavy and limp, but even lying helplessly on his side with one leg hanging over the edge of whatever he was on, he felt steady. Someone strong was holding him and while concentrating on that, he realized that he was holding on tight to a shirt or something with the only part of his body that wasn’t totally useless.

“Dean?”

Dean hummed and tried to get a feel for what his body was capable of, which wasn’t much. “Hold still here for a sec.” The voice was Sam’s for sure, but it could still be a hallucination.

“Sam?” Dean could only get out a raw whisper and the sound made his head hurt and for a moment he was scared that the puking would start all over.

“It’s me. Take it easy, I’ve got you.”

Dean took a deep breath and focused on his eyes again. The light had been turned down, and he was able to open his eyes to almost make a clear picture, but there was no doubt: That worried face and those eyes filled with empathy could only belong to his brother.

“You okay Sammy?” Dean gagged from the pain of speaking and Sam disappeared from his line of sight for a moment. When he calmed down again, Sam came back.

“I’m okay. Don’t talk anymore okay?”

He felt Sam’s big hand in his palm and squeezed it as an answer.

“Do you want to lie back again?”

Dean tried to roll to his back but gave up just as four hands helped him slowly back. “What…?” The movement and talking made everything to much and hard to breathe. He closed his eyes again. “Who?”

“Dean. Don’t speak, remember?” Sam’s other hand took a firm grip on his shoulder. “I’ll explain everything, just relax for a few minutes.”

Dean relaxed into the not soft enough padding under him and again squeezed Sam’s hand.

“You need this on.” Sam was clearly not aware that Dean didn’t know what he was talking about. “Just stay calm.”

Something was moving over Dean’s face and he flinched and tried to move away.

“Dean. Let her help. It’s just an oxygen mask.”

It took a few seconds for the message to sink in and for Dean to calm down enough that the woman could place the mask on him. It helped. It got easier to stay calm, to hear what was going on, and to get control over the muscles in his legs and arms.

Slowly he opened his eyes again and this time he was able to see Sam clearly. He was standing next to him, holding his hand and shoulder. He seemed alright. No cut, no bruises to speak of, but he could have hidden that under bandages and that t-shirt.

Sam smiled down at Dean. “Are you awake for real now?”

“I think so.” Dean scanned the room. He was clearly in some kind of clinic or hospital. There was a woman by his feet, keeping a close eye on him.

“Hi Dean. Good to see you finally awake. You gave us quite the scare for a moment there.”

Dean looked questionable at Sam. Hoping to get some kind of an explanation.

“You hit your head and inhaled enough of the drugs in that room to give you an overdose. Karen is a doctor, she saved you ass.”

The case… Dean didn’t really remember. Something hit him over the head and everything went dark. Thinking really hard, he remembered some white packages broken on the table… maybe.

He looked at the doctor, still not quite connecting the dots. “Thanks.”

“Of course. Can I make a few tests to make sure you’re alright?”

Dean managed to nod without getting too dizzy and the woman approached him slowly. Sam didn’t step back or let go once during the exam.

“I’ll leave out the light in your eyes.” She doctor stepped back. “I’m pretty sure we can conclude that you have a severe concussion on top of the drug-exposure.”

She started to pack up her things. “You’re out of the woods, but you shouldn’t move too much. I’d like you to stay in bed at least 24 hours.”

Dean wanted to get on the road, he needed to do something, mostly he wanted to find a new case and not be left here with his thoughts, friends gone and hard choices, but he couldn’t. No matter how much he hated to be a patient, that was what he was. His body and head wouldn’t let him move for more than a few seconds at a time.

“As soon as you feel up to walking, we can get you to a real bed. We have a guest room you both can stay in.”

Sam thanked the doctor and after making him promise, which wasn’t hard, that he’d call if something changed, she left the room.

Sam sat down on a chair next to Dean, but Dean wasn’t ready to stay calm and wait yet.

“Let me see?”

Sam seemed surprised by the demand. “What?”

“Your bandages.”

Sam smiled overbearingly and stood up. “You were hallucinating. I didn’t get hurt. Not really.” He pulled the t-shirt over his head and revealed a small bandage on his chest and one on his ribs. There was nothing bleeding through and the white patches were no longer than three inches. Dean was confused, he was sure he remembered his brother drenched in blood, he certainly remembered the fear and panic when he realized that he was to hurt himself to help Sam.

“Dean… I’m fine. Do you see it?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah…”

Sam sat back down and clearly noticed Dean’s hand twitching. The worried frown on Sam’s forehead was back in an instant.

“It’s nothing. Just a small shake.” Dean tried to convince both himself and his brother, but Sam had already called for the doctor.

She reassured them that Dean was getting better and that small tremors would be expected, just as sweating and nightmares.

“That’s a few of the reasons why I want you to stay.” She looked kindly at Dean but made sure that he knew that she wasn’t kidding.

Dean figured he was in for a couple of unpleasant days.

* * *

Half an hour later, they moved to the guest room and Dean settled in for what was left of the night. Sam too. None of them got much sleep. Dean dreaming, sitting up from discomfort or restlessness and shifting between excessive sweating and freezing enough to want to join Sam in his bed. Sam was running to the door, calling the poor woman every time he got nervous that Dean was getting worse, which was often.

In the morning both brothers were sleeping, Sam in a chair with a towel, he’d gotten for Dean, in his hand, and Dean twisting and gasping in dreams, but sleeping nonetheless.

Two days later, Dean’s need for leaving finally took precedence over his disgust for moving objects and they left Karen and her husband’s place. Sam had insisted on driving because he’d thought he’d seen Dean’s arm twitching again that morning. Dean didn’t agree, but he was too tired to argue, so he settled on taking the passenger seat. The smell of Baby made him feel relaxed and at home no matter where he was sitting anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think ^^


End file.
